


Reindeer Games

by Shaddyr



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Gen or Pre-Slash, Humor, M/M, SGA Secret Santa Fic Exchange
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-12
Updated: 2014-01-12
Packaged: 2018-01-08 11:26:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1132085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shaddyr/pseuds/Shaddyr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As John stared around the unfamiliar room, he reflected on the fact that McKay was not a man who understood the meaning of the word ‘enough’.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reindeer Games

**Author's Note:**

  * For [icarusancalion](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=icarusancalion).



> This was my entry for SGA Santa 2013. My recipient, icarusancalion, asked for the following:
> 
> _humour; plot; annoying Christmas carols played past the point of human tolerance; strange alien customs are ex-cel-lent; Warm, snuggly mornings, with an edge of realism (morning breath?) are good (or maybe waking up in unexpected places?)._
> 
> I tried to hit most the points requested, though perhaps in slightly unusual ways - enjoy!

John knew that he should be the bigger man, that he should concede defeat with grace and aplomb, smile and say, “you win”. He knew that if things kept escalating at the current rate, it was possible that one of them was going end up in an embarrassing and potentially dangerous situation off world sometime soon as payback for the mayhem they were inflicting on each other. It could even end up putting a mission at risk if one of them didn’t make a choice to rein it in and put a stop to the insanity.

He smiled. He never had been one to concede defeat in any situation, and like hell he was giving in now - he had the perfect plan, and he was going to take McKay down. He glanced around again. Well, as soon as he found his way *back* to the main part of the city, anyway.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It all started innocently enough one morning when Teyla asked a question about monopoly. Rodney launched into a diatribe about evil corporate empires controlling supply and demand when John kicked him under the table.

"Ow!" Rodney yelped, glaring at John as he rubbed his ankle. Ronon took advantage of his momentary distraction to filch the muffin from his tray. “Hey! Give that back!” Rodney demanded, but Ronon just laughed as he took a huge bite. Rodney turned to glare at Sheppard again. “This is your fault!” he complained. “You owe me a muffin!”

John tossed his muffin onto Rodney’s plate. "Monopoly is a _game_ ,” he replied with a pointed look at Rodney before he turned to Teyla. “It’s basically all about winning lots of stuff," he continued. 

Ronon perked up at that. “I like to win stuff,” he said. “Can we play?”

“You don’t win real stuff,” Rodney explained as he peeled back the paper on his muffin, carefully keeping it out of Ronon’s reach. “You use fake paper money to buy fake buildings and fake land and then charge the other players if they go on your property."

Ronon looked disappointed. “That sounds boring.”

Rodney nodded. “It really is,” he replied before scarfing down his prize.

John let out a chuckle. “Yeah, not exactly my favourite,” he said wryly. “Why do you ask, Teyla?"

"One of the nurses sang Torren a song during his last check-up,” she explained. “I found myself curious about a game that animals could learn to play."

John and Rodney shared a confused look. "Come again?" John asked. 

"In the song, they were playing games ‘like Monopoly’. Torren could not understand why the other animals would not allow one to play simply because of the colour of his nose." She gave them both a puzzled look. “Is it supposed to be a teaching song about overcoming bigotry, or a song about bravery? By the end, the others animals admire the one they originally excluded, but only after he proves himself by guiding them on a quest. I admit I was somewhat confused as to the intended message, and I would like to be able to answer Torren’s questions about it.”

John blinked several times, then burst out laughing as he clued in. Rodney let out a groan and buried his face in his hands. Teyla’s expression indicated that she was running out of patience and would appreciate an explanation. Before John could open his mouth, Rodney was on a roll.

“That so-called _song_ was a originally a poem in a cheap colouring book made by some company too stingy to buy real Christmas presents for their employee’s kids,” he huffed with disdain. “It is not a teaching song in any way, shape or form. The original doesn’t even mention Monopoly,” he added. “That’s something kids on every school playground across North America have been adding for years. It’s completely ridiculous.”

“Hey!” John said, frowning. “I like that song! It was one of my favorite Christmas carols as a kid.

“Oh, and I’ll bet you loved Frosty the Snowman too, didn’t you?” McKay scoffed.

John crossed his arms and smirked at McKay. “As a matter of fact, I did.” He cocked an eyebrow. “You gonna make something of it?”

Rodney rolled his eyes and waved a hand at John. “Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it.” He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms to mirror John’s pose, a smug smile on his face. “You know, Teyla,” he said, even while his gaze was locked with John’s, “One of the things I love about the Pegasus galaxy at this time of year is the fact that I am not inundated by the insidious and annoying Christmas music that is piped into nearly every public building from the end of November till New Year’s day! Crappy, overplayed renditions of so-called classic carols in every supermarket, bookstore and mall - you can’t get away from the stuff! It’s enough to make any sane person lose their mind.” 

“So, not really a problem for you then, McKay?” Ronon asked with an amused grin.

“Oh ha ha, you’re hysterical,” Rodney said as he rolled his eyes. “You should take that comedy routine on the road.”

John let out a snort. “Well, you are always telling us how your minions are driving you crazy.”

“And on THAT note, I’ll be going to the lab to terrorize the minions because THEY at least understand about giving the appearance of respect to their betters!”

As Sheppard laughed, Teyla turned to Ronon and shook her head. “I don’t think I will ever understand Earth customs.”

Ronon nodded. “I think you should stop trying.”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

“I think we should pull Musgrove and assign him to Simpson for the time being,” Rodney said as he finished tying his shoes. 

“That is not a good idea!” Radek disagreed. “He is at a critical point in his work, and a disruption could set him back weeks, if not months!”

He shook his head as Radek argued in his ear. “I understand what it’s like to be interrupted in the middle of epiphany, but we both know Simpson’s energy conservation project is more important than his simulation, and she could really use his help right now. It’s just for a day or two.”

Radek was still muttering as Rodney grabbed his tablet and exited his quarters. “Ok look, I’ll be there in…” He trailed off and came to a halt several steps outside his door. 

“What the hell?” There was music playing in the hallway. No, not just music; there were _Christmas Carols_ playing.

“Rodney? What is it?”

“Radek,” he said slowly, “Has someone been messing around with the city wide messaging protocols?”

“Ah, you mean the music! I radioed Colonel when I came in this morning. Was his idea, trying to bring in some holiday spirit.” Radek sounded pleased and Rodney grit his teeth. “It is nice, yes?”

“Radek, I hate canned Christmas music with the passion of a thousand fiery suns.”

“Not so nice for you then. Too bad. I like it.”

As Rodney wasted several hours coaxing Atlantis to let him use the override protocols - _yes, as City Admin, he was authorized to countermand User Prime directives; no, it was not an emergency; no, really, the city wide band should not be used to broadcast music for hours on end_ \- he decided that John needed a reminder that he wasn’t the only one Atlantis listened to.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

John looked out across the sand and watched the heat distortion create the mirage of water far off in the distance. He’d been struggling for hours to work free of his restraints and his eyes stung from the sweat pouring off his brow. He was exhausted, but he needed to get out of this endless heat and to get some water. He wiggled and squirmed and then suddenly, he was free and falling. He abruptly woke up as he hit the floor beside his bed, his blankets wrapped tightly around him.

He blinked groggily as he pushed off the too-hot blankets and got to his feet, only to realize it wasn’t just the covers, but his whole *room* that was too hot. It had to be almost 80°F. He thought ‘off’ at the heat, but got a sluggish response, as if Atlantis was reluctant to obey. Puzzled by the resistance, he walked into the bathroom and thought the shower on as he grabbed his toothbrush. He stuck it in his mouth and stepped into the water, only to scramble backwards with a yelp once he felt the icy spray.

“What the hell?” he muttered as he sent a pointed mental query asking Atlantis to change to the temperature of both his quarters and the shower. This time, there was a clear conflict in the response - she really wanted to do what he asked, but she was very sorry - there was a system override in place, and could he please enter the passcode?

John let out a dark chuckle. Rodney was good, but Atlantis *loved* him. Rodney was right about the fact she would eventually give John anything he asked for, passcodes and security locks be damned.

“It’s okay, girl,” he murmured, as if gentling a spooked horse. He didn’t even bother trying to figure out Rodney’s code; instead, he went for the brute force approach, and every time he ran into a block or security barrier Rodney put in place, he told Atlantis to OVERRIDE OVERRIDE OVERRIDE until it was gone. It took about 10 minutes for John to secure control of the environmental controls for his room and Atlantis ratcheted up the airflow to cool his room before he even asked. As he walked into the bathroom and adjusted the water to his preferred heat, he pondered over a truly suitable revenge.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Ronon and John were just starting in on breakfast when Rodney plopped his tray down and settled in the chair across from them. John could tell he was attempting a poker face, but as usual, was failing badly. He bit down a smirk, keeping his own expression neutral. 

“Morning,” Rodney said as he started cutting up his sausage. “Everyone have a good sleep last night? Well rested and ready for the day ahead?”

Ronon glanced at Rodney and grunted, then went back to eating. Both of them stared at Ronon for a moment, watching in appalled fascination as he made alarming amounts of sausage vanished at frightening speeds. John shook his head in wonder, then turned back to his own plate. Rodney spoke again. “How about you, Sheppard? Sleep well?”

John took a moment to select the perfect potato chunk, then speared it and a piece of sausage with his fork. He dipped it in a touch of ketchup and lifted the fork halfway to his lips before looking back at Rodney. “Like a baby,” he lied before taking the bite. 

The look on Rodney’s face was priceless - stymied, disappointed and confused all at once. John chewed, swallowed, then took his time looking for the next perfect bite. After the initial surprise that came from thinking his prank hadn’t scored the hit he’d hoped for, Rodney tucked into his breakfast. John kept quiet, knowing for well that Rodney was incapable of staying silent for any length of time, and it wasn’t long before he was telling John about the new power thing Simpson was working on, very exciting, very important, big breakthrough, amazing progress. John nodded, asked a few questions for clarification and let the conversation flow over him. 

Just as Rodney stood and picked up his tray, John played his card. “By the way, there seemed to be a little hiccup with the environmental controls this morning.”

“What? Where?” Rodney demanded. “Have you informed Radek? He needs to be kept in the loop about these things.”

John shook his head. “It was no big deal, it’s under control - only took me a few minutes to fix.” He smiled up at Rodney, a lazy, self satisfied smile, and he watched as Rodney had the light-bulb moment and his eyes narrowed.

“No big deal, hmm?”

“Nope. It’s all good. Just thought you should know.”

Rodney just pursed his lips and studied him for a minute, then let out a huff. “Right. Well. Some of us have work to do, so…” With that, he walked away.

As McKay headed to the exit, Ronon grunted again. John glanced over at him. “What?”

Ronon gave him a look. “Doc’s always talkin’ about McKay’s blood pressure, sayin’ he’s gonna have a stroke if he doesn’t relax.”

John nodded slowly. “And?”

Ronon suddenly grinned. “Just thought maybe you wanna call the doc and have him waiting at the lab when McKay gets there. Cuz when McKay sees what you did, he’s either gonna have a heart attack or stroke out.”

John let out a belly laugh as he thought about McKay’s reaction. As much as he’d enjoy seeing it in person, he was wise enough to stay the hell away until the dust settled. He’d really need to keep his eyes peeled after this.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

When Rodney walked into the lab, the first thing he noticed was that the god-awful Christmas Carols were back, but they were a bit quieter this time. He could almost tune them out. The second thing was the group of people all clustered around his lab bench, and *that* needed to be addressed. 

“Move it, people!” he yelled. “What are you all lollygagging around for? There’s work to be done!”

The crowd melted away to reveal the source of the attraction. Rodney’s lab bench was completely wrapped in Christmas paper. His computer, his keyboard, his monitors - all wrapped. His two laptops - also wrapped. There were strings of lights wrapped around the legs of the desk, more strings dangling down from the ceiling, with garlands wrapped around them. There were several whiteboards that he typically monopolized that were similarly festooned with bright holiday decorations, garlands and lights.

As Rodney circled the lab bench in dismay, he realized the music was louder at the back of the lab because it was coming from his private office - his refuge in those moments when he needed to sequester himself from the minions before he lost his mind - and there the true horror began. This time, the carols weren’t a mix of Christmas tunes, it was just Frosty the Snowman and Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer on repeat, over and over. There was a gnarled little tree on his desk, decorated with lights and a garland, and everything in his office was wrapped. Every. Single. Thing. Every book, every Ancient artifact, his third laptop. Every box, every file, every pen and pencil, all wrapped in garish paper, some with ribbon, some with bows.

He walked out of his office, eyes wild and breathing heavy. Scientists scrambled to be elsewhere as he approached, and he made his way straight to Radek.

“Who?” he demanded, because even though he knew full well Sheppard was behind this, there was NO WAY one man could have done _all_ of this alone. “WHO did this?”

Radek looked up from his laptop to give Rodney a look of scorn. “I am working, Rodney. Sometimes soldiers come into the lab and they go out from the lab. I do not pay that much attention.”

“Are you trying to telling me you didn’t even notice?” Rodney yelled, but the other man didn’t even flinch.

“I noticed,” Radek retorted. “I just do not pay that much attention. They left alone things they were told not to touch, so I am not concerned.”

“They were touching my things! That should be a concern!”

“Your things will not explode and kill us all like the Ancient artefact over there,” Radek said, pointing at the innocuous looking metallic item sitting on the bench across the room. “That concerned me. Your desk and laptops? Not so much.”

“Oh! Et tu, Brute! See if I watch your back when someone does something like this to you!”

“I am not foolish enough to enter into an escalating battle against a foe I cannot defeat.”

“Oh, I am so taking him down! This is NOT over!”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

John slowly woke up the next morning, consciousness returning by layers. He was comfortable, not too warm or cold, but gradually realized something seemed off. He opened his eyes a crack, then sat up suddenly, eyes wide open. He was not in his room.

He glanced around. It was still Atlantis; he could feel her respond to his mental query. The room he was in was bare, and a window looked out over an unfamiliar view of the city. He had no idea where he was.

he slipped out of bed - it was *his* bed - and found his nightstand, with his earwig on it. He slipped it in place and radioed control.

“Chuck?”

“Morning, Colonel.”

“Morning,” John said as he glanced out the window again. “Hey, do me a favour, would you?”

“What do you need, sir?”

“Tell Atlantis to track my transponder and give my location on the city map.”

“Uh… ok.” Chuck sounded confused. “One moment.” There was a pause, then Chuck’s voice came back, even more confused than before. “Sir, according to this, you’re out in the North sector, pretty much in the middle of the area that was cleared last month.”

“And the power still hasn’t been restored to the transporters out here, has it?” John asked, already knowing the answer.

“No, sir. Uhm… if you don't mind my asking, how did you get all the way out there? That’s gotta be at least a 4 or 5 hour walk.” 

“Long story.”

“Yes sir.” Another pause. “Should I contact Dr. McKay--”

“No, Chuck,” John replied with a sigh. “That won’t be necessary. Just let folks know that until I’m back, they should contact Lorne in case of an emergency.”

“Yes sir.”

John broke contact and looked around the room once more. Other than his bed and nightstand, there was nothing else of his here - no shoes or clothing - all he had was what he was wearing. He grimaced. His sleep pants and panda shirt wouldn’t look too odd if he appeared to be coming back from a workout. Maybe he’d call Ronon before he hit city centre and see if he wanted to spar for a while. He needed to work out a little ire before he saw McKay again, anyway.

Something at the foot of the bed caught his eye, and he knelt down to get a better look. Upon closer study, he realized it reminded him of the circuitry he’d seen in the floor of the transporter when Rodney had disassembled one before making repairs. He shook his and chuckled ruefully. Rodney had transported him, bed and all, to a deserted section of the city! Which meant he should be able to transport him back.

He tapped his earwig. “Rodney.”

He waited a moment, but there was no response, so he tried again. “Sheppard to McKay.” Silence. “Answer me, Rodney.”

“McKay here. What do you want, Sheppard? I’m busy.”

“I could use a lift.”

“Whatever do you mean by that?” Rodney asked, smirk evident in his tone.

“I mean, nice one, well played, now I need to get back to the city and I don’t have 4 hours to waste walking, so - reverse it.”

“Sorry, have no idea what you could be talking about,” Rodney replied breezily. “I do understand all about not having time to waste though. It’s funny how long it can take to unwrap, oh EVERY SINGLE ITEM in your OFFICE! It’s really annoying when you have more important things to do.”

“You’ve made your point, McKay,” Sheppard said tersely. “Now put things back where they go.”

“Hmmm,” McKay replied. “How about…. no? Have a nice walk, Colonel. If you get going now, you should make it back for lunch. McKay out.”

As John stared around the unfamiliar room, he reflected on the fact that McKay was not a man who understood the meaning of the word ‘enough’. But then again, it wasn’t like he was very good at it, either. 

The gloves were coming off.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Rodney took his time in the shower, enjoying the luxury of endless hot water. He hummed a little tune as he lathered scrubbed and rinsed, and tried not to worry about whatever heinous repayment Sheppard would have in store for him. It had been a blissfully quiet, carol-free morning in the lab without Sheppard there to stir up more mayhem, but he’d spent the afternoon looking over his shoulder, wondering when and where the shoe would drop.

He finally turned off the water then grabbed his towel, drying himself well before wrapping it around his middle. Maybe he would just work from his quarters today. After the last few days, staying in seemed like a much safer option. He just needed to grab some coffee and breakfast, then snag some Powerbars and snacks, and he’d be set for the day.

He brushed his teeth, shaved quickly, and left the bathroom to get dressed. He grabbed a clean pair of boxers and some socks from the top drawer, then went to pull out a t-shirt only to find his t-shirt drawer was empty. He stared for a second, then pulled open the next drawer. It was also empty.

"Oh, no, nonono!” he cried as he pulled out the last two drawers, but they were also bare. He ran over to the closet to see if his uniforms were there. In their place hung the most hideously awful Christmas sweaters he had ever seen. There was a [sweater with ornaments](http://www.rustyzipper.com/full/269703.jpg), one with elves, a [sweater that lit up](http://www.rustyzipper.com/full/268896.jpg), a sweater with cats in Christmas trees, and a [sweater with Santa’s Sleigh](http://www.rustyzipper.com/full/267877.jpg) flying over a city street.

The pants were even more horrific. There was a pair of [bright red pants](http://www.betabrand.com/media/catalog/product/cache/1/image/1150x673/0dc2d03fe217f8c83829496872af24a0/n/a/nauseating_holiday_pants_7.JPG) with white Christmas designs all over them, pants with one green and one red leg, and one brain meltingly hideous pair that were [a patchwork of red, green and tartan, ](http://img.loveitsomuch.com/uploads/201209/11/vi/vintage%20mens%2060s%20hippie%20ugly%20christmas%20plaid%20red%20green%20patchwork%20pants%2032-f91064.jpg) like something that escaped from a 70’s hippie commune.

Rodney stumbled back and sat on the bed. There was no way in hell he was wearing any of that. He jumped up and rushed over to where he’d kicked off his dirty clothes the night before, but they were gone too.Even his tattered blue bathrobe was gone. 

He looked around wildly for his radio. Surely he could cajole, bribe or threaten one of his minions into bringing him a t-shirt, a pair of sweatpants, something other than the awfulness that hung in his closet! He searched everywhere, behind the nightstand, under his bed, but his radio was gone too. It was either venture out in his boxers and socks, or wear these hideous eyesores to leave his quarters and find some real clothes.

Or he could just stay here, in his room until someone came looking for him. He let out a sarcastic laugh. He’d be doing through serious caffeine withdrawal and suffering from a hypoglycemic episode before anyone showed up.

He sat on the edge of his bed and held his head in his hands. Sure, he made Sheppard walk almost 20 K yesterday, but he didn’t make him do it in front of other people dressed like a clown! This was going too far! He let out a groan of despair. Radek had warned him, but he couldn’t stop or back down. He’d just *had* to go that extra step and one up Sheppard and now - he couldn’t do this, he just couldn’t! Everyone had their limits.

His head jerked up when he heard a tap at the door.

“Who is it?” he called, jumping up and clutching the towel tightly in front.

The door slid open to reveal Sheppard leaning against the wall outside his quarters. “Hey, Rodney,” he said, making no move to come in. “I thought I’d come by and walk to breakfast with you.” He stared at the towel for a moment, then moved his gaze up to Rodney’s face, a slight smile curving his lips. “Get dressed already. I’m hungry.”

“Very funny, Colonel!” Rodney snarled, hands automatically going to his hips. “You know very well I have nothing to wear!”

At that declaration, Sheppard sauntered in, the door hissing shut behind him. “Nothing to wear?” he asked in mock surprise. “Well, let’s have a look then, shall well?” He waggled his eyebrows at Rodney and went over to the closet. “What have we here?” he asked as he pulled out the sweater with the blinking lights. “Well, this is… bright,” he said flashing it at Rodney before throwing it on the bed. “And now for pants,” he said as he pulled out the bright red ones. “These are certainly… unique.” He tossed them on the bed as well, then turned back to face Rodney. “Well, there you go, looks like you have some clothes after all. Snap to it or Ronon will eat all the waffles!”

“There’s waffles?” Rodney asked plaintively.

“Lots of fresh, fluffy waffles buddy. Waiting for you in the mess.” John smiled at him. “You just need to get dressed and come down and get some.”

Rodney looked at the clothes on the bed, then looked back up and John and his face crumpled. “I just… I can’t.” He hung his head and wrapped his arms around his torso protectively. “You win, ok? You win, I lose, now can I please have my clothing back?”

John was startled at the sudden change in Rodney’s demeanour. “Hey, buddy-- Rodney. It’s just a joke.”

Rodney let out a brittle laugh. “Yeah. Sure, I know. It’s just that it’s kind of a flashback to some of the more hellish parts of my childhood that I try hard to forget.”

John suddenly recalled Jeannie’s stories about Rodney’s childhood, and realized he’d inadvertently stumbled onto something that wouldn’t just annoy or irritate Rodney, but might actually leave him feeling humiliated, and that was not what he’d had in mind. Embarrassing Rodney, that would be funny. Humiliating him, not so much. 

He leaned a shoulder against the wall and looked at his shoes. “Tell you what, buddy. There’s only one thing that I want, and it doesn’t involved fugly Christmas clothing, You do this one thing and we’ll call it even, ok?”

Rodney looked at him sideways. “What is it?”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

John sat with Teyla in her quarters, the remains of what had been a big waffle breakfast still on the table between them. He relaxed with his coffee while she sipped her tea, and they both glanced over at the laughter that came from the other room.

Rodney was sitting on the floor with Torren curled up against him. They were watching Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer on John’s laptop. Torren had been giddy with excitement when the movie started, pointing at the toys and asking endless questions. He was mostly settled in now, watching with eyes at half mast, snuggled up in Rodney’s arms, and only letting out the occasional giggle or squeal as something amused him. It amused John that for someone who claimed to hate kids as much as Rodney did, he was amazingly good with one.

“So the story is really about both overcoming bigotry and being brave,” Teyla said with a smile as they listened to King Moonracer tell Rudolph that he and his friends can stay for a night if he will ask Santa to deliver the misfit toys. “It is a good story.”

John nodded in agreement. “I always thought so.”

“Sometimes in going through trials and adversity of many kinds, we learn things, both about ourselves and our friends.” She gave him that mysterious, enigmatic smile that always made him wonder if she could see right through him and knew exactly what he was thinking. 

He nodded again. “Yeah.” That seemed like a safe answer. She laughed.

“I am glad that you did not push Rodney to do something that would have been painful for him. It would have harmed him and it may have damaged your friendship.”

“Well, you know,” he muttered, scratching the back of his neck and looking away.

“Yes, John,” she said, with that warm, indulgent look that only mothers could give. “I know.”

John took a sip of his coffee and decided that the perfect end to their little contest - and the perfect Christmas gift for Rodney to boot - would be a copy of the classic Rudolph movie he was watching with Torren right now. From one Misfit toy to another. And if he asked Atlantis very nicely, he could probably persuade her to play it in the lab, on the large Ancient view screen.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

This was the (non-standard) version of Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer that the Nurse sang to Torren. It’s the one that we used to sing when I was growing up:

**Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer**

Rudolph, the red-nosed reindeer  
had a very shiny nose.  
And if you ever saw him,  
you would even say it glows. (Like a light bulb!)

All of the other reindeer  
used to laugh and call him names. (like goofy!)  
They never let poor Rudolph  
join in any reindeer games. (like Monopoly!)

Then one foggy Christmas Eve  
Santa came to say: (HO! HO! HO!)  
"Rudolph with your nose so bright,  
won't you guide my sleigh tonight?" 

Then all the reindeer loved him  
as they shouted out with glee, (YAAAAAY!)  
Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer,  
you'll go down in history!


End file.
